


rebuild this broken heart

by buddiebuddie (positivelystisaac)



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: M/M, this is short n sweet but i had to write a lil follow up to that scene in 1x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelystisaac/pseuds/buddiebuddie
Summary: “TK can still hear the door to Carlos’ house slamming behind him long after he’s torn out of the driveway and slammed his own car door shut too, just for good measure. He’s halfway home when the angry tears welling in his eyes start to spill over. He swears under his breath, swiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand.”
Relationships: Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand
Comments: 18
Kudos: 285





	rebuild this broken heart

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Bones by Josh Record, which I have since deemed The Tarlos Anthem. Also I wrote this in a half hour on my phone so any and all mistakes are 100p my fault :)

TK can still hear the door to Carlos’ house slamming behind him long after he’s torn out of the driveway and slammed his own car door shut too, just for good measure. He’s halfway home when the angry tears welling in his eyes start to spill over. He swears under his breath, swiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

His self-preservation kicked into overdrive the second he saw that meal on Carlos’ table. The thought of starting something new, starting something that could be serious? Something serious where he opens up and gives a piece of his heart and dreams of a future and a family and all the good things he’s ever wanted, only for it to end in “I’m in love with someone else” out of nowhere? Well, it’s almost too much.

He pulls over, drawing a shaky breath and dropping his head to the steering wheel. He takes a few deep breaths. He knows it’s not Carlos’ fault. He knows he deserves an explanation, deserves the truth. At the very least, he deserves an apology for being on the receiving end of TK’s Alex-induced freak out.

Which is how, instead of turning right to keep heading home, he finds himself in the left lane, waiting for the turning light to change so he can pull a u-turn. He pulls up to Carlos’ house a few minutes later, a ball of nervous energy. It almost feels like his skin is buzzing, the anxiety and anger and sadness and guilt of the last hour coming together in his veins.

He doesn’t even have to knock— the door swings open as he steps onto the stoop. “TK,” Carlos says. It’s not really a question, yet not quite a greeting. More of a statement.

“I’m sorry,” TK says. “Fuck, Carlos, I’m so sorry.” He runs his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

Carlos steps aside, letting TK into the house and closing the door behind him. “T—” he begins.

“No, let me just… let me say this. I just… I went through some stuff back in the city, and I’m still dealing with everything that happened and I’m just.. I’m still fucked up from it all. And I’m sorry, Carlos. I am.”

Carlos opens his mouth as if to speak, but TK keeps going. “And I wanted to go home and be angry and be upset and wallow in my own self pity, but I’ve come too far to go back to my old ways,” TK says. “And you’re… you’re good, Carlos. God, you’re so fucking good. Too good for me and this baggage I’m lugging around. And you deserve an explanation.”

And then the words are tumbling from his mouth so quickly he’s almost shocked he remembers to get a breath in. The word vomit spews from his lips— Alex, the proposal, the overdose, the move to Austin, all of it— and when it’s all out there in the open, when he’s free of the secrets he’d spent all this time holding so close to his chest, he looks up at Carlos. Carlos, who asks him to dance, and Carlos who offers to put the sirens on to get TK to work on time. Carlos who texts him “good morning” and who laughs at TK’s lame jokes. Carlos who cooked him a nice meal after a long ass shift with nothing but good intentions, Carlos who has a megawatt smile and skilled hands— god, does he have skilled hands, TK thinks— and a good heart. Carlos whose eyes are brimming with tears at TK’s words.

“Fuck,” TK mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. Part of him feels great, feels liberated, at getting it all out there. But the other part, the nagging part, wonders what in the hell he was thinking, saying all that to this guy who he’s known for such a short amount of time, who he already scared off once tonight. “That was— I shouldn’t have put all that on you. If you didn’t already think I was damaged goods, you sure as hell do now. I’m—”

He stops suddenly when Carlos pulls him into a hug. He stiffens at first. But then, the walls he worked so hard to build up around him crumble, falling away almost instantly.  
“You are not damaged goods,” Carlos murmurs into TK’s hair, just loud enough for him to hear it.

TK takes a long, shaky breath in, the smell of Carlos’ soap and laundry detergent mingling as he inhales. It’s not lost on him that it already smells like home.


End file.
